Humiliation
by Sekah
Summary: Kurama should have known better than to wander the hotel alone—he should have understood his own vulnerability. That was what Toguro told himself, and he was damned emphatic about it, too. Toguro/Sakyo/Elder Toguro/Kurama. Please heed all warnings!


**Author's Note: Please heed all warnings!** The following fic is extremely explicit, and contains graphic rape and torture! Don't read if such things offend or frighten you. Thanks.

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><p><em>Kurama should have known better than to wander the hotel alone—he should have understood his own vulnerability. That was what Toguro told himself, and he was damned emphatic about it, too.<em>

The door swung crazily to the beat of shearing deadbolts and splintering wood, ricocheting back and crashing into the wall so hard the plaster almost buckled. The unexpected sound and movement made Sakyo look up idly from his alcohol, and Toguro glance over the crown of the newspaper he'd been browsing.

Aniki backed into the room with quick steps, giggling maniacally as ropy appendages, growing out of an extended arm, shortened. Kurama, the monkey's prey, dug his heels into the smoothly waxed and uncarpeted floor outside Team Toguro's suite, trying to slow the inevitable and succeeding only in sliding witlessly forward.

His head bled sluggishly where Aniki, in the process of manhandling him through the halls, had slammed him carelessly into a doorframe. He had a bruise darkening on his chin where he'd been thrown into a wall, too, the knocks more purposeful on Aniki's part than not.

Kurama tossed his head defiantly against the finger gagging his mouth, his nostrils flaring and eyes bright. Aniki manipulated his fingers suddenly in a vicious yank, dragging Kurama past the doorjamb, knocking him off his feet and throwing him into a sudden, sharp descent.

Aniki immediately loosened the gooey elasticity of his flesh and allowed the fox to land hard, sprawled prettily across the floor, delighting in the sound of his teeth clacking as the pointed jaw struck carpet. Kurama's hair was a masterpiece, luxuriously curled as it tumbled across the diamond patterns of the rug. When his lean muscles tightened to attempt resistance, the ooze of Aniki's flesh turned to iron, dragging him viciously back to his feet by his wrists, nearly jolting his arms out of socket.

Fingers shortened, the rug hot friction against Kurama's heels while Aniki drew him inexorably forward. Kurama's long lashes slipped closed to mask his fear when an especially brutal yank made him trip, and he fell against Aniki's gaunt frame. The demon plastered himself over the resistant fox. Kurama's eyes widened in disbelief and anger, then strayed fearfully to the coolly amused face of Sakyo, and Toguro's unreadable gaze. His muffled yelp made Sakyo stir slightly as Aniki's hand reached between his legs and grabbed a palmful, fingers tightening. Surrounded, Kurama hunched over and endured the repugnant touch, cunning green eyes capturing his surroundings and his foes in a clear attempt at reasoning an escape.

"I brought a lovely little toy to be Karasu's present, we just need to wrap it properly. Where did he go?" Aniki hissed delightedly.

Toguro folded his paper briskly, levering up from his chair with a grunt and tossing the news to the side. "He's out. I sent him and Bui to do something. He won't be back for a day or so."

Aniki's face fell, mocking the fox's fear. "Do you hear that, little whore? You've been given a reprieve. How disappointing." His lugubrious visage tightened, a nasty smile pulling open his lips, revealing predatory yellow teeth. Eyes widening dementedly, he added, "Such a shame. And we can't keep you for a day, I suppose, or my brother will get a bit upset. We'll have to make some memories, just you and I."

Kurama's eyes narrowed, and finally he was able to set his feet on the ground. He wasted no time in making his move. Plants of all colors blossomed suddenly from the vermillion curls and began slicing with impunity, a particularly feral species spitting out acid that clipped Aniki in the ear, making him curse and back up. Kurama hurled and clawed the writhing bits of Aniki's flesh from his body and raced for the door. The speed of the massive blur on him in far less than a second made air hiss through his teeth.

Toguro held him off the floor by the throat and wrists, barely squeezing, though that was enough to make Kurama's lips part for want of air and his fingers fall completely limp. The fox shivered helplessly, letting out gentle sounds of discomfort, his toes curling in their fighting slippers. He didn't struggle. It would be completely useless: nothing he did would harm or hinder this man.

"My, little foxy, aren't we feeling feisty! I hadn't realized you were just playing earlier," Aniki hissed. "Well, let him down brother, and let's show him what he's won."

Toguro was examining the moist lips that gasped in front of him, each breath wheezing uncomfortably, when he said, "On one condition." Then he lifted Kurama up by his neck and dove forward, capturing the open mouth in a sudden, violent lip-lock. His exploratory tongue dueled sharply with Kurama's, which tried to push his out, miming the act that was being threatened. His hand clenched on Kurama's windpipe when Kurama tried desperately to shut his mouth.

The sharpest pang of lust Toguro had felt in years pulsed through his groin as he withdrew from the kiss lips first, tongue second, looking down speculatively at the kitsune who glared up at him dangerously, his sodden lips appealingly red and swollen. Toguro glanced down at the rims of tears that Kurama was struggling to contain and hide, and lower than that, where he noticed that Kurama's fingers had, searching for something to clench onto, found the cuffs of his green coat, which were now clutched in a tight, shivering grip.

Abruptly disgusted, Toguro tossed the boy in a directed fall to the ground. So brusquely released, Toguro's coat rasping through his fingers, Kurama could do nothing but pull up to his knees in front of him and stay there, glowering and afraid, vacillating between massaging his throat and his wrists.

"What condition, brother?" Aniki chortled, amused.

"I take his ass. You get his front."

"Inari…" Kurama breathed, his voice a little rougher from Toguro's strangulation.

Sakyo took a final sip of his alcohol, draining it. He grinned. "This sounds quite interesting. Do you mind if I watch?"

Toguro smiled and shook his head. He grasped a fistful of Kurama's curls, and dragged him to his feet and through the door to his bedroom, held open by Aniki. Kurama walked along with him to stop his hair from being ripped from his scalp.

Kurama, thrown against the side of the bed, pulled at the covers as he slid down, cringing into a faux fetal position and shielding his head with his hands, palms turned out, saying, I'm harmless, please don't. His face turned automatically into the mattress.

Delicate wrists were grabbed, crushed, as Kurama was ripped up again. His wrenching, pitiful sobs, his face distorted by grief and fear, made no headway into the pity of his attackers. Sakyo circled around the kit, finding a plush armchair to sink down into, his tie impatiently undone and his eyes intent.

Kurama's tunic was stripped from him, his world narrowing down to the cloth being yanked over his head as he writhed in Toguro's grip, his feet leaving the ground momentarily. Suspended for seconds in midair by his twisted arms and hair, he whimpered when his feet hit the ground again and he stumbled back to the bed, his tunic in Toguro's hand. His arms crossed over his chest in a block, cringing back like a child about to be hit.

"Please. Inari, please. No."

Sakyo chuckled, the sound a knife in Kurama's side, and sank gracefully back into his armchair. Aniki whooped with laughter. "Just hear the little whore beg, brother!" he shouted.

Toguro shushed the fox and wrapped his hand around Kurama's defensive arm, abruptly jerking him around and pressuring the back of his neck until he was bent over the mattress.

Brusque fumbling undid the knot of Kurama's sky-blue sash, his hips jerking with the violence of it when the cloth was ripped from the belt loops of his pants. Then the trousers themselves were yanked down, the strong Makaian silk tearing and Kurama's knees almost buckling with the force of his clothing scraping over his hips. It took only a moment's work for Toguro to rip the simple white underwear in half, and then Kurama was bare before them, shaking in terror, arms crossed over his chest and hugging himself as he tried to deny this threatening reality.

Please, Inari, let them find their satisfaction but leave me my life, Kurama thought desperately. Please.

Aniki's grotesque arms extended, his deformed hands gathering Kurama's long tresses into pigtails on either side of his pretty weeping face. "Brother! His hair would look lovely like this, don't you think? Why don't we escort him back to his team when we're done wearing nothing but two hair ties?"

Kurama, horrified and debased, set his jaw grimly and mustered his youki quickly and silently. In an instant, Aniki trilled with pain as bamboo spikes impaled his palm, his blood oozing down onto the back of Kurama's neck, making him shudder.

A shadow appeared out of the corner of Kurama's eye, quicker than thought, and Kurama was smashed bonelessly into the bed from Toguro's smack, his ears ringing and an eye blacking quickly, drooling as he momentarily lost consciousness. He awoke a mere second afterward, halfway to flopping to the floor, when a massive hand entirely and far too easily encircled his delicate neck. His fingers went up, pawing, not daring to scratch into the calloused skin for fear of this man's retribution. Toguro's other hand, Kurama realized, was toying with the round shell of Kurama's delicate ear. Kurama began to struggle and wrestle tamely, gaining no headway but forced to fight from desperation, though he was still too scared of the consequences to battle earnestly.

Toguro picked Kurama up by his neck, easily subduing his thrashes and kicks. He rummaged for a moment in the dresser next to the bed, before pulling out a tube and a paper square that set Aniki giggling and Sakyo lighting a cigarette to calm his rising pulse, his eyes never straying from the spectacle laid before him.

"You will not fight, and you will not defy us, Kurama," Toguro growled, his tone causing the boy to tremble; he still wheezed for breath. Tears travelled down Kurama's face, some slipping through his parted lips, little bursts of salt, others making the full journey around the high cheekbones and down the dimpled chin, moistening Toguro's fingers. "If you're obedient, lubrication will be your reward." He held up the tube. "If you're disobedient, I'll ward you, and our cocks won't even be wetted." Kurama shuddered violently, thinking of the unbearable pain he would experience, imagining the agony as he was held down and torn into without oil or preparation. "Do you understand?" Toguro grunted.

Kurama said nothing, lost in his fear.

"This is the last time I repeat myself for you: do you understand?" Toguro snarled, Aniki giggling from somewhere behind him.

Kurama looked straight into his assailant's face, eyes wide with fear, and nodded, barely able to draw breath and unable to trust the steadiness of his own voice.

"Good boy." He let Kurama go then. All of them watched him stumble back and massage his throat, sucking in air, leaking green eyes turned meekly down to the floor. "Aniki," Toguro said over Kurama's head. "Take him without lube for a few minutes." Seeing Kurama's stricken look, he added, "You should not have fought back, Kurama. Fool pride will get you nowhere."

"Of course, Brother!" Aniki howled, laughing malevolently as Kurama turned to look at him in horror. "Come here, little fox. We should take the time to get better acquainted."

"Mercy," Kurama whispered, backing into the lavish covers of the hotel bed, "Mercy!"

Aniki's laughter became even shriller. "Oh but we are being merciful, Kurama. We'll leave you alive after this. Come here, I won't hurt you." He hissed, voice dripping with insincerity.

"No," Kurama sobbed, "please no!" The tentacles reached out anyway, Kurama hardly daring to resist.

Kurama clawed at the air, trying to reach something, anything, that would slow Aniki down, but regardless of his fights, those disturbing appendages hefted Kurama easily into the palm of Elder Toguro's hand. Kurama found himself flipped over and turned, all he could see a reeling mess of carpet and legs while thick ropes, frighteningly strong, curled under his knees and spread them, opening up his ass to Aniki Toguro's grotesquely lengthening tongue.

"Stop. Stop!"

Aniki cackled and prodded the little hole that would take him fully in mere minutes with his tongue, then turning his head to bite harshly at a cheek of Kurama's ass. Kurama's hands went down to the disturbing bands of flesh around his knees, his knuckles turning white as he gripped them, trying to rip them off.

"Tell me, Kurama: who else have you fucked in this body?" Aniki hissed. "Are you still the famous Youko whore? Or perhaps," his voice lowered to a slither, "we're your first taste of pleasure, eh?"

Kurama said nothing, hiding his eyes, but Toguro would have none of it. "Youko," the big man growled, "answer."

Kurama, who had stopped breathing for a moment, started up again, air stuttering through his mouth. "No . . . one. I've—I haven't—no one."

Aniki howled with laughter, startling Kurama, humiliating him. Sakyo chuckled, lounging back into the chair in the position of a feckless teenager and undoing his slacks with the hand still twiddling his cigarette, threatening to set the cloth on fire and scorch his own skin. He was thoughtless of that as he took out his aching cock and toyed with it, rolling his balls idly with the same hand dangling the lit tobacco, grunting in pleasure. Then he reached up and laid the cig sensually against his lips, pinching it between teeth and taking a long drag, letting out a funnel of smoke as Aniki began to position the fox, Otouto reaching forward to capture Kurama's wrists.

Aniki wasted no time. Once Kurama's ass was in position and his weapon freed from his pants, its small size obviously ballooned to increase Kurama's pain, Aniki speared him, one smooth motion of his hips slamming him in to the hilt, dragging a tormented spasm of pain and a raw scream from Kurama. Aniki gulped and moaned, his tentacles digging into Kurama's flesh so hard they began to cut off circulation.

"I'm surprised, Kurama," Aniki hissed, panting for air atop the weeping boy. "I hadn't expected you to be this tight."

Kurama sobbed, thrashing, Aniki setting a blistering pace that dragged screams and moans from Kurama's throat, feeling ripped open and soiled, knowing he was bleeding already from Aniki's merciless violation.

"Doesn't it feel good, Kurama—your first cock?" Aniki sneered, Kurama's screams reaching new heights as Aniki's member curved bizarrely inside of him, twitching and pulsing weirdly as Kurama's tears dripped down his face and belly, or was caught in his hair, a new sheen of sweat accentuating his blushing skin.

Toguro's hands were huge around Kurama's slim wrists. Finally, the big demon said, "That's enough, brother."

"Oh," Aniki jeered, "I was just getting started!" But he let Kurama fall away, the fox feeling every terrible inch of that uncut purple shaft pull out of him, dripping with coagulating blood and precum.

Toguro kept his grip on Kurama's wrists, and used it to drag him, stumbling, towards the bed. One of his huge frying-pan hands slipped between Kurama's legs, leveraging Kurama up over the mattress as though he weighed nothing at all. Kurama rolled onto his back and scooted away from Toguro desperately, whimpering deep in his throat and clearly expecting Toguro to come up after him. Instead, Toguro stood to the side, taking off his sunglasses with a sigh and folding them up, placing the dark frames on the nightstand with a click. Kurama felt like there were razorblades in his stomach. He tried to overcome the trembling he couldn't control, the fear, and the pain from the internal scrapes and tears of Aniki's too-recent violation. The horror of what was about to happen numbed him.

Toguro undid his coat languidly, button by button, and then shrugged it over his shoulders and tossed it to a ladder-back chair across the room. Kurama was unable to look away from his disrobing, feeling like he was watching a train barreling towards him while he lay tied to the track. The tank top underneath was quickly and far more carelessly shucked, revealing rock-hard ridges of bulging muscle. In another circumstance, far removed from what was happening, the sight of his chest could have been arousing for Kurama. Now, it did nothing but make him cringe back further, sickened and afraid, his fortitude withering until he had to look down and away. He was acutely aware of the eyes drinking him in, and of Aniki's snickering at his averted face and frightened posture.

The mattress creaked and sank down, Kurama glancing up to see Toguro taking off his boots, back to Kurama, completely dismissive of him. Kurama looked away, hugging his knees to his nude chest. Hearing the scratchy roar of a zipper being undone, Kurama looked up again. His eyes fell immediately on the fleshy rod that was revealed as Toguro stood and removed his last clothes, and his lips parted in horror with a surprised popping sound.

Toguro was huge. Thick as well as long, rigid already from its wide base to its flared head, inhumanly proportioned, Kurama knew that a weapon like that would cause more damage to him than Aniki's cruelty, just by virtue of size. Uttering a desperate 'no,' and repeating it over and over again, Kurama leapt for the window, frenzied. He was dragged back by tentacles, fighting valiantly all the way, scared past reason by the thought of the hurt to be done until he reached the animal place of fight or flight reflexes, run or thrash and flail wildly, try to remain alive.

"Fox," Toguro growled, "I told you not to fight. You know as well as I do that you won't be able to heal if you're warded. You just might bleed out."

Kurama sobbed, curling up into a tight fetal position on the bed, legs drawn in and arms over his head, giving in to the urge to cry. His breath gave out in a sharp hgck when Aniki's flesh, still wrapped around him awkwardly, slithered between his legs and wrapped around his cock, undulating. Kurama rolled over and dragged at the unwanted stimulation, but Aniki just let his flesh pull like sticky skin-colored taffy, repulsive instead of sweet, gumming up around Kurama's fingers.


End file.
